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NEW PUBLICATION

ANALYSIS OF THIRTEENTH - CENTURY MOTETS
Hendrik van der Werf

In a recent publication, I had the opportunity to reexamine current
theories about the medieval motet.1 My observations were based on analysis
that involved many motets and went more into detail than usual. On that
occasion, twenty two carefully chosen compositions served to illustrate my
remarks; here I hope to strengthen my observations and conclusions by
bringing in examples that were chosen by others for the very purpose of
introducing the motet to music students.2

EXAMPLE 1
In Diagram 1a, the motet text "Gaudeat devotio fidelium" is laid out in
verses as common for lyric poetry in general; the ciphers and letters in the
right margin indicate, respectively, syllable count and rhyme scheme. In
these two features, as experts on poetry have long recognized, almost all
motets differ from other medieval poems, including hymns for the liturgy and
songs by troubadours and trouvères. Over and over during my research on
motets, the term "non-conformity" came to my mind. This does not mean that
their poets and composers were non-conformist or rebellious members of
society; it simply means that motets diverge in several respects from
traditions for Latin and French polyphonic songs in general.

In Diagram 1b, the same text is laid out so that duration of individual
syllables corresponds to the time they occupy in actual performance. (For
this occasion, we must ignore differences between long and short Breves.)
Furthermore, the Duplum is superimposed upon the durational pattern, or
talea, of the Tenor melody which itself is given in pitch letters. This
particular talea was used for numerous motets; its first half consists of two
separate notes and a Longa rest; as circumstances clearly indicate, the first
note is a Duplex Longa, the other a Longa. The other half consists of three
Longae, usually written as one ligature, followed by a Longa rest. With one
seemingly minor departure (line 5), the talea is repeated over and over. The
Tenor melody consists of a melismatic section over the word "nostrum" from a
chant for Easter. By itself, it is rather repetitive in that it consists of
two partially identical phrases. As marked by Roman numerals in front of the
first and the sixth line, moreover, it is stated twice with the important
exception that the second statement does not comprise the last three notes of
the Gregorian melody while the second half of the last talea has only two
rather than three notes. Presently, no statistics are available on features
like this, but it may well be true that in approximately half of the motets
with a Gregorian Tenor, the original melody was lengthened or shortened by
some or several notes.

In the Diagrams, syllables that have a primary word accent are
underlined, showing that this motet has what we may call a "two-syllable"
accent pattern. The vertical alignment of the voices in Diagram 1b shows a
typical feature of the many motets with this pattern: most word accents
coincide with the beginning of a Longa note or rest in the Tenor. In our
everyday terms, word accents of such motets tend to come "on the beat".
Detailed examination of many motets teaches that rests, especially Longa
rests, are crucial indicators for the form of a given piece. As shown in
Diagram 1b, the first verse, "Gaudeat devotio fidelium", ending with three
Longa syllables and a Longa rest, is as long as the first talea which also
ends with a Longa rest. Next, what seem to be four verses, "verbum patris
incarnatur, nova proles nobis datur, et nobiscum conversatur, salus gentium"
actually form what I came to call one "period" that ends with a Longa rest
and has three internal rhymes. (The Brevis rest after "nobis datur" does not
occur in all readings of this composition.) The next period, "vite pandit
ostium, dum mortis supplicium, pie tolerat" is somewhat non-conformist; its
first two verses are as long as one talea but the rest after "supplicium"
(which does not occur in all of this composition's readings) is of Brevis
rather than Longa duration. Furthermore, the verse "pie tolerat" is sung to
only half a talea. These non-conformist features would be weak points of
versification in other genres of poetry, but they are typical for motets.3
The second statement of the Tenor melody is marked by conformity in that each
pair of verses in the Duplum parallels one talea in the Tenor. Designers of
motets must have liked mixing conformity with non-conformity; this case is
somewhat unusual in that the transition from one to the other coincides with
the transition from the Tenor's first to its second statement. The second
statement of the Tenor's melody being shorter than the first facilitated the
non-conformity between the two sections as well as the conformity between the
voices of the second section.

As in other motets in which the Tenor melody is sung two or more times,
the manuscripts have only one statement of the Tenor text. As indicated on
the top system of Diagram 1b, the second syllable of the Tenor's sole word,
"Nostrum", stands under the last note of the first talea. This probably
implies that the Tenor's second syllable is held from that point for the rest
of the Tenor melody, beginning at the very point where the Duplum arrives at
the first occurrence of its rhyme sound "um". Two of the Duplum's rhymes,
"i-um" and "a-tur", end with the vowel "u", so that ten of the fifteen verses
end with a syllable that is assonant with the corresponding vowel of the
Tenor. This is probably no coincidence; it was not a requirement, but it was
far from unusual for a motet to have some relation between the syllable sung
by the Tenor and the rhyme of the Duplum. Such cases raise questions about
the old theory that the Tenor melody often was played on an instrument.

EXAMPLE 2
In form, the motet "Ave Maria fons letitie", with a single statement of
the Tenor "latus", is almost unusually simple. On the left side of Diagram 2,
all verses rhyme on "i-a" and thus end on the vowel sung by the Tenor for
most of the piece (the syllable "-tus" comes in the middle of the ninth or at
the beginning of the tenth talea, coinciding with the Duplum word "regem" or
"qui"). All but two of these verses have six syllables. All verses on the
right side rhyme on "i-e" and all but one of them have five syllables. As is
fairly usual, almost all word accents come when the Tenor moves to a new note
or a rest; but as is far less usual, every pair of verses parallels one
talea. At the halfway point of each period, the second syllable of the rhyme
"i-a" comes over the rest in the middle of the talea; but the second syllable
of the rhyme "i-e" coincides with the last note of the talea, so that the
concluding rest of a period coincides with the concluding rest of a talea.
All in all, there is unusually much conformity between the two voices of this
piece.

EXAMPLE 3
The third piece to be discussed is given in Plaice's anthology as a motet
for three voices over the Tenor "Nostrum" with the Latin text "O radians
Stella" in the Triplum and "Salve salus hominum" in the Duplum. For several
reasons, I chose to discuss its four-voice version that has French texts for
its upper voices. To a large extent, the Tenor has the same pitches as the
Tenor of Example 1; in this case, however, the second statement lacks the
last two pitches of the Gregorian melody. It also has the same talea, except
that the group of three notes comes before the two single notes; this talea
pattern continues over the transition to the second statement.

Diagram 3a displays the rhymed verses of the Duplum. Eight of them have
ten syllables, which is a very common syllable count in French poetry of any
period, but it is uncommon that this one also comprises a couple of
three-syllable verses. The Triplum (Diagram 3b) has primarily seven- and
ten-syllable verses, which is not an unusual combination for a French poem,
except that their order seems rather untraditional. In this context, one
verse of four syllables may not be exceptional but one of only two syllables
is very uncommon. The Quadruplum (Diagram ), having verses of almost any
number of syllables, is even further removed from traditions for French
poetry in general. In perhaps yet another aspect of mixing conformity with
non-conformity, the Quadruplum shares two rhyme sounds with the Duplum, while
the Triplum has its own. If thirteenth-century pronunciation of words like
"amors" (Duplum, first line; at that time also spelled as "amours"; see also
"odours", Quadruplum, last line) was similar to "amour" in more recent
periods, many rhyme syllables in the Duplum and the Quadruplum are assonant
to the text of the Tenor. Interestingly, not until the last period does that
rhyme occur simultaneously in those two voices.

In Diagram 3d all four voices are given in score, albeit a score without
notes; it reveals an interesting combination of conformity and
non-conformity. In the Duplum, each of the first five verses runs parallel to
a talea. The first section of the piece is thus marked by conformity between
Tenor and Duplum, whereas no manuscript has a rest after the rhyme words
"esprover" and "toz jors" in the second section (systems 6-7). Thus, what
seem to be three rhyming verses form one period with two internal rhymes,
ending with the word "dolors". Significantly, the rest after this long period
coincides not with a rest but with a note of the penultimate talea. This
non-conformist section thus comprises three and one half taleae, during which
Tenor and Duplum do not share a single rest. In the Triplum, the first two
rests coincide with a rest in the middle of a talea (systems 2-3). Only one
rest in the Triplum coincides with the concluding rest of a talea (system 7).
The other five rests in the Triplum occur when the Tenor has a sounding pitch
so that non-conformity in phrasing prevails between Tenor and Triplum. In the
Quadruplum, about half of the rests coincides with a rest either in the
middle or at the end of a talea. In total, at no point do the four voices
rest simultaneously. This probably is calculated non-conformity, and we must
reckon with the possibility that the form of the piece had been worked out in
some detail before work was started on the text and the music of any upper
voice.

At this point, textual accentuation needs our attention. The Latin texts
of our first two examples have two-syllable accent patterns placed so that
accented syllables tend to coincide with the beginning of a Longa note or
rest in the Tenor. The Latin Duplum text preserved with the music of our
third Example is quite different (Diagram 3e). Except for the first half of
the second line, its periods begin with an unaccented syllable, while word
accents come on the second, the fifth and the eighth syllables of a period in
an almost consistent three-syllable accent pattern. As shown in Diagram 3g,
relatively few word accents coincide with the beginning of a note in the
Tenor. The situation is very different for the French text sung to the same
music. French poems of almost any period have an accent pattern that almost
exclusively concerns rhyme words.4 Most periods of the Duplum (Example 3a)
have ten syllables, and most of them end with an accented syllable of a
polysyllabic word.5 In French poetry, in general, many ten-syllable verses
have a caesura after the fourth syllable; that is, the fourth syllable is the
last and accented syllable of a polysyllabic word (in this case, only verses
1-2 and 8-9). All of these word accents coincide with a new note and
therefore, presumably, with a melodic accent in the Tenor, which is not the
case in the Latin Duplum. At the present state of the research, however, we
cannot be certain that the supposedly better fitting text is the "authentic"
one. It also should be noted that the Latin and the French Duplum have
identical division into periods, but as comparison of Diagram 3a with Diagram
3f shows, they do not have the same division into rhymed verses. This
reconfirms that the division into periods is more relevant to form analysis
than the division into verses.

EXAMPLE 4
In Diagram 4a the Duplum "Homo quo vigeas vide" is divided into verses on
the basis of rhymes. As usual, syllable count and rhyme scheme differ widely
from traditions for versification in other genres of poetry. In three cases,
moreover, inconsistent accentuation could make one wonder whether the poet
chose proper rhyme words. It seems likely that the words "dei" and "fidei"
(rhyme c, verses 3 and 4) are supposed to rhyme, even though they differ in
the placement of their word accents; the same goes for "premia" and "via"
(rhyme m, verses 36 and 39) and for "tuum" and "perpetuum" (rhyme o, verses
42 and 43). In other forms of poetry, one might consider them cases of poor
rhyming, but similar accent variants in rhymes occur in many Latin motets,
and in this context, they may well be facets of non-conformity.6
In Diagram 4b, duration is taken into consideration; in addition, the
text is divided into periods on the basis of rests in its two sources. Even
in this format, rhyme scheme and syllable count do not conform to what they
are in other genres of poetry. Perhaps most striking in this motet is the
relatively high number of syllables of Longa duration. My judgement may be
premature, but I do not see much relation between duration and meaning.
However, the numbers on top of the Diagram draw attention to an interesting
ratio among these periods. Including their rests, two periods last four
Longae, most periods last eight, and the other ones equal twelve Longae, in a
ratio of 1 : 2 : 3. At present, I do not know whether this ratio may have
been a deliberate goal of the person who designed the form of this motet. If
so, it probably was not unusual that the last period falls outside of this
scheme.

In Diagram 4c the periods are aligned with the taleae. (The Tenor melody
is sung twice; its second statement begins in line ten.) In a not unusual
departure from talea presentation, the last three notes of each statement are
extended; in this case, it is unclear how long each of them lasts. Thus, the
Tenor has a strophic form, but the Duplum does not. Even though most periods
of the Duplum are exactly as long as one talea, not one period runs parallel
to a talea; instead, the rest at the end of the first period coincides with
the rest in the middle of the first talea; this form of overlapping holds for
the first eight taleae. After that, no rest in the Duplum coincides with a
rest in the talea.

Scribes of medieval poetry collections often placed a point after a
rhyme. In most genres of poetry, such rhyme points tell us nothing new, and
very little has been written about them. In many motets, including Examples 1
and 4, the scribe of the collection now in Florence placed such points after
some rhyme words. I have no statistics on their occurrence in the entire
manuscript, but in remarkably many instances, a rhyme point in the text
corresponds to a rest in the music at the end of a period. Even though rests
and rhyme points do not consistently correspond to one another, they show
that not all rhymes were of equal importance to a medieval connoisseur. This
scribe's somewhat inconsistently applying a seemingly minor aspect of scribal
habits supports my trying to distinguish between verses and periods.
* * *
Authors of textbooks and compilers of anthologies honestly believe that
they rely on theories about the origin of the motet that were formulated by
experts; in reality, however, they depend on observations that were made
during initial stages of research on the repertory. Because of its unusual
versification, it is generally accepted that the motet arose when someone
decided to add texts to the upper voices of already existing polyphonic
compositions which, themselves, served to enrich the liturgy. This theory was
first posed in 1898 by a scholar who did not hide the fact that he had
insufficient evidence for it.7 This person, Wilhelm Meyer, was an expert on
medieval Latin poetry who, as he himself wrote, knew very little about
music.8 He gave his essay the subtitle "Provisional Observations", and
claimed the right to alter or withdraw any or all of his observations.9 He
wanted to initiate a scholarly discussion on the nature and, especially, the
origin of the motet; in this respect, he seems to have failed. On first
encounter, Meyer's suppositions sound simple and believable, but they were
based on partial research involving texts only.

Regardless of their number of voices, most motets are ingeniously put
together and we cannot ignore the possibility that their form was designed
before the text and the music of the upper voice(s) were made up. We cannot
know whether the cantus firmus was selected in the process of designing the
form or whether the length of the chosen cantus firmus played a role in the
design. Ever since Meyer posed his provisional observations, it has been
generally accepted that, at least in the earliest days of the genre, the
music and the text of a given motet came from different persons. I can find
no support for this generalization. Most importantly, it leaves out of
consideration the crucial question of who designed the form of the individual
voices. I have found no reason to take for granted that every motet stemmed
from different persons with distinctly different specializations.
Concerning the question of whether the text or the music was produced
first, we may get a clue from such verses as the opening period "Gaudeat
devotio fide-li-um" which ends with three Longa syllables, each of which is
sung to one single pitch. "Gaudeat devotio" is one of slightly over a hundred
compositions, the Duplum of which is extant both with and without a text;
many of them have a greater mixture of long and short syllables than this
one, and the long syllables often seem important to the meaning of the total
text. If the music was composed first, the poet had a demanding job in
matching the long notes with fitting syllables, but if the text was produced
first, the composer did not have an extra difficult task. We cannot always be
sure about the order in which text and music came about, but we must abandon
the notion that the music always came first.

The music of all four examples is extant not only for a motet, but also
as a clausula or a discant passage in an organum with a textless Duplum. In
current teaching, they are early specimens of the genre motet. In
versification, the Dupla of our examples, especially numbers 1, 3 and 4, seem
irregular, perhaps even haphazard, but the manner in which their periods
either parallel or overlap the taleae of their Tenor is part of a
sophisticated interaction between conformity and non-conformity. This forces
us to question the notion that they are very early specimens of a young
genre. In short, we know virtually nothing about the origin and the early
history of the motet.

As noted above, the second statement of the Tenors' melody for Examples 1
and 3, is two notes shorter than the first. Gregorian sources clearly
indicate that the missing notes were integral to the original cantus firmus.
In an earlier publication, I included a chart showing variants in the Tenor
melody over the cantus firmus of Example 2 as it appears in one organum and
six clausulae.10 There are many small variants among them, especially towards
the end of the melody. In addition, the clausulae differ from one another by
beginning on what in the organum is the second, the third, or the fourth note
of the melisma for the third syllable of the word "immolatus". We cannot a
priori rule out the possibility that some of the differences near the
melody's conclusion are local variants in the Gregorian melody, but most,
perhaps all of them probably were caused by the designer's desire for a Tenor
melody with a predetermined number of notes. At present, I have no
statistics, but there are many pieces in which the cantus firmus was
shortened or lengthened by some or even by many notes. This phenomenon seems
to contradict the widely accepted theory that many motets, as well as all
clausulae and discant passages were created in order to embellish the
liturgical chant from which the cantus firmus was derived.

Every one of our four examples is extant in several thirteenth-century
collections, and their overall form varies almost from one source to another;
all four even vary from one reading in a given manuscript to another reading
in the same manuscript.11 In the first place, close examination of the
differences among the above four and numerous other compositions
unequivocally tells us that we rarely have the means to determine the oldest
(or the "authentic") form of a given piece. Two sources (W2 & F) have our
first example in three formats. Tenor and Duplum appear as a discant passage
in an organum for two voices (without text for the Duplum). In both, Tenor
and Duplum appear also as the lower two voices of a conductus motet for three
voices. In one of them (W2), Tenor and texted Duplum appear as a motet for
two voices. In a third source (W1), Tenor and Duplum appear as a clausula,
that is, as an independent piece with a textless Duplum; in that same source,
Duplum and Triplum appear also with the text given here but without the Tenor
so that they resemble a conductus for two voices. A fourth source has the
Duplum with the text given here as an apparent monophonic song. To a limited
extent, the situation is simple; this piece is not likely to have originated
as either a monophonic or a duophonic song that happened to go very well with
an already existing Tenor. But at the present stage of the research, we do
not know which of the other readings is likely to be the oldest form of this
piece. It is not even certain that we will ever have foolproof means to
detect the original form.

For the Duplum of our second example, the sources preserve not only the
text "Ave Maria", but also the French text "Quant l'alouete s'esjoist en mai"
and the Latin text "Radix venie". In a section with Latin motets in W2, the
music concerned appears as a motet for two voices with the text "Ave Maria";
in a section with French motets, it returns as a motet for two voices with
the text "Quant l'alouete". In the other sources, this piece has three voices
that come to us in three ways: as a discant passage in an organum, as a
conductus motet with the text Ave Maria", and as a motet for three voices
with "Radix venie" in the Triplum and "Ave Maria" in the Duplum. No source
has only Tenor and Triplum. At the present stage of research, I find it
impossible to have a firm opinion as to whether it started out as a
composition for two or as a piece for three voices.

The multiple readings of the Tenor for Example 2 are remarkably close to
identical. The music for its upper voices are essentially the same from one
source to another, but there are variants. Some exclusively affect pitch
level, while others involve small differences in the number of pitches for a
given syllable. The three texts have the same division into periods but not
the same syllable count. The variants are small, but their mere presence
emphasizes that the number of Longae in a given period is more crucial than
the number of syllables. In addition, some of the textual variants suggest
that the alignment of the two voices within a period varies from one
presentation to another.
As so often, the French text of our second example is secular while both
Latin texts are religious. The secular one speaks of love in May, which
somewhat fits the Easter topic of the chant from which the Tenor is taken;
the two Latin ones honor Mary without any reference to Easter. It seems
generally accepted that a piece like this started out with a Latin text.
This, however, may well be based upon the old assumption that medieval poetry
in a vernacular language was imitation Latin poetry. Meyer, for example, was
of the opinion that anyone who wants to understand medieval poetry, must
first study religious Latin texts.12 In musicological studies, this theory
still seems to have influence, while it has virtually disappeared from
evaluations of other expressions of medieval culture. We, too, must ignore
this eighteenth-century prejudice and examine each polyglot reading on its
own merit.

The music of our third example is extant as a motet for two, three or
four voices. We have two Latin texts for the Duplum and yet two other texts
for the Triplum. The French texts occur in two three-voice (Tenor-Duplum-
Triplum) and two four-voice readings. Of special interest is a cluster of two
clausulae on the cantus firmus "nostrum" in the Florence manuscript. One
consists of our Tenor and Triplum, the next one has our Tenor and Duplum. It
is highly improbable that, initially, there were two independent pieces for
two voices that miraculously were made into one very consonant piece for
three voices. Beyond that, we have little certainty about the original form
of this composition.

The transmission of our fourth example is relatively simple in that most
readings are for three voices, either as a clausula or as a conductus motet.
One source has it in one place as a motet for two voices with the text given
here and in another place with the French text "Amors vois qerant qui me
fuit". Future research may suggest that the version for three voices was the
one intended by its designers, but it may be more difficult to select what we
would call the "authentic" text. At the present stage of the research, we
cannot even rule out the possibility that both texts for a given upper voice
stemmed from one poet and are of essentially the same age.

The above variants, along with those among the multiple readings of
numerous other pieces, provide convincing evidence for certain practices.
Those who were commissioned to gather a collection of motets and related
pieces were free to add one or even two voices to an existing Tenor-Duplum
pair. Conversely, they were free to dismantle a piece for three or four
voices and present it as one or more pieces for fewer voices. Usually, a
piece for three voices was reduced by omission of the Triplum, while a piece
for four voices lost either its Quadruplum or its Quadruplum and Triplum. The
scribes occasionally even entered a Duplum or a Duplum with Triplum without
Tenor. With respect to texts, scribes were free to enter a motet without its
text and give the music as a clausula or even as a discant passage in an
organum, just as they could enter a motet with a text other than the original
one. Conversely, they must have felt free to add a text to a Tenor-Duplum
pair that had started out as a clausula or a discant passage. To a certain
extent, moreover, an existing text and its music were subject to variation,
and we often have no way of knowing whether the change was made deliberately
or by mistake. Those who performed motets, and that probably included
creators of motets, had similar freedoms. All of this strongly suggests that
the modern respect for the "authentic" form had no parallel among those who
transmitted motets to us.

Even in this restricted context, we cannot ignore the composers' use of
chords. Clearly, there were no hard and fast rules as to when a consonant was
required and where a dissonant was acceptable. In varying degrees, the
composers showed a preference for consonants in accented positions, while
dissonances could come almost anywhere. Medieval theorists gave the fourth as
one of four so-called "perfect" consonances. The composers knew better; or
rather, the theorists were not very precise. The extant duophonic pieces of
the late eleventh and early twelfth centuries rather convincingly show that
the fourth was not the equal of the unison, fifth and octave.13 The same
situation pertains to duophonic music of the thirteenth century. Motets for
three and four voices strongly suggest that the fourth is the equal of
unison, fifth and octave only when it occurs on top of a fifth. Presently, it
is unclear whether chordal preferences can help us determine which was the
initial form of a given piece. In our third example, to take just one case,
the number of on-the-beat instances in which the voices have both a fifth and
an octave over the lowest sounding voice is higher in the four-voice than in
the three-voice version. This does not necessarily prove that the piece
started life with three rather than four voices.

Finally, we may turn to a crucial question about thirteenth-century
compositional abilities. Were composers of motets for three and four voices
capable of simultaneous composition or were they restricted to establishing
one voice after another? Closely related to this is the question whether
composers of motets "wrote" their music; in other words, did they use writing
gear while working out the individual voices of a new piece? On the latter
point, we must keep in mind that our ability to "read" music was acquired at
least in part by our actually seeing many pieces in print while learning and
performing them. It seems unlikely that many medieval singers saw enough
music in writing to arrive at a similar ability. Those who are familiar with
Barbershop quartet and today's pop music, will not rule out the possibility
that the voices of a motet were composed simultaneously by as many
participants as there were voices in the composition. That is, experienced
singers simultaneously worked out the upper voice or voices to go with the
Tenor that was sung by one of them. They may have composed in bits and
pieces; they may not have written down one single note, but they made sounds
while composing. Related to the issue of written versus notationless
composition is the question of how a motet reached the scribe of an extant
manuscript. In many cases, multiple versions are marked by small differences
in the distribution of the notes over consecutive syllables.14 Not enough
study has been made of such variants, but continued research may well show
that motets often were transmitted by word and pitch of mouth rather than in
writing.
* * *
Four motets cannot adequately represent the great diversity of the motet
repertory. Nevertheless, the above examples unambiguously and eloquently
confirm Meyer's observation that motet texts tend to have irregular forms and
that they were not intended as poetry for its own sake. However, Meyer missed
what may well have been the most crucial characteristic of motets. The
irregularity in the form of an upper voice is compounded by overlapping
periods and taleae. The formal difference among the voices of a given piece
was part of a design in which conformity and non-conformity interacted in a
manner that, at least to some extent, was planned in advance. Because the
play with conformity and non-conformity often is subtle, and especially
because it thus far seems to have escaped most researchers, I referred to it
as "hidden beauty". I hope that it will not remain hidden for much longer.

Notes

1 Hidden Beauty in Motets of the Early Thirteenth Century, 1999.
2 For the first three examples below, see Claude V. Palisca, editor, Norton
Anthology of Western Music, third and fourth edition; for the fourth example
see Thomas Marocco and Nicholas Sandon, editors, The Oxford Anthology of
Medieval Music.
3 In Style and Evolution of the Earliest Motets, volumes IIIa and IIIb, Hans
Tischler gives rhyme scheme and syllable count for each motet involved. To
some extent, the symbols for individual verses are grouped in what I call
"periods", but the section "The Interrelationship of the Parts" is
complicated and, in my estimation, not very realistic (op. cit., Volume I.
pp. 149-161).
4 French texts have far more monosyllables than Latin ones, and accentuation
of them often depends on subjective interpretation. In some cases, two word
accents even come in immediate succession (e.g., "sovent lermes" in the
middle of the third period). In the French texts, therefore, I refrained from
underlining accented syllables other than the ones in a rhyme and a caesura.
5 Thirteenth-century manuscripts do not have accent marks on words such as
"loiauté" (Quadruplum, verse 6); they have been added here for the sake of
clarity.
6 Tischler, refers to them as "poor versification", Style and Evolution IIIa,
#23.
7 Wilhelm Meyer, "Der Ursprung des Motett's: Vorläufige Bemerkungen", in
Nachrichten der k. Ges. der Wissenschaften zu Göttingen,
Philologisch-Historische Klasse, 1898-2, pp.113-145.
8 "Die Mühen der Untersuchung waren für mich, der ich zwar gern singen höre,
aber von Musik nichts verstehe, ungewöhnlich grosz", op. cit. 114.
9 "Es scheint mir nützlich ... ... die Grundzüge meiner Ansichten schon jetzt
zu veröffentlichen, mit dem Vorbehalt sie später im Einzelnen auszuführen,
zuzusetzen, oder wegzunehmen", loc. cit. Meyer's observations, without his
reservations, were at the basis of many subsequent studies, including
Friedrich Ludwig's influential discussion of motets in Guido Adler, Handbuch
der Musikgeschichte, Berlin 1930, vol 1, pp.232-259.
10 Hidden Beauty, Vignette XVI, pp. 107-109.
11 For information about multiple sources for a given motet, see my
Integrated Directory of Organa, Clausulae and Motets. Alas, it was
impractical to incorporate variants among multiple versions in the Diagrams
for this essay.
12 "Aber wer im Mittelalter klar sehen will, musz stets von lateinischen und
kirchlichen Texten und Einrichtungen ausgehen." op. cit. p. 130. Most such
disparaging opinions about vernacular literature of the Middle Ages
originated among the so-called "rationalists" of the eighteenth century.
13 See Hendrik van der Werf, The Oldest Extant Part Music, passim, especially
pp. 27-28.
14 See, for example, the multiple readings of the Duplum for the motet, "In
Bethlehem", in my Hidden Beauty, Vignette XXI, pp.148-158. On this issue,
study of similar variants among multiple versions of Gregorian chants as well
as troubadour and trouvère melodies is of great help.

Hendrik van der Werf
4831 Placita de los Vientos
Tucson, AZ 85745-9233

Email Hendrik van der Werf: hendrikvdw@aol.com